


Put a Spear on It

by TempuraSteel



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Gladio is a hopeless but amusing romantic, Ignis cannot, M/M, Romantic Fluff, proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-03
Updated: 2018-04-03
Packaged: 2019-04-17 15:13:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14191749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TempuraSteel/pseuds/TempuraSteel
Summary: Gladio coerces Ignis into going outside to look at the newly fallen snow.  It's a lie, of course.





	Put a Spear on It

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little something for Gladio's birthday. I mean, after all, what could he want more than Iggy?

Ignis pushes his spectacles to a higher perch upon the bridge of his nose with one finger as he eyes the dough with a critical stare. Something wasn't quite right. Something ---

"Hey. Iggy? You in here?"

The familiarity of Gladio's deep, booming voice from somewhere in the foyer, followed by the slam of the front door. Probably with a booted foot from the sound of things.

"Kitchen," Ignis calls out.

The rustling of clothing and bags. Boots being pried off of feet in a last minute haste and dropped in what was certainly a haphazard pile near the front door. Well, at least the other man had remembered to remove them.

Gladio appears framed in the doorway, the gray dress shirt half-unbuttoned, sleeves rolled to his elbows, hair flecked with snow. He holds up a paper bag, a smirk curving one side of his mouth.

"Got your nuts in my hand."

Ignis feigns a long-suffering huff, only half-betrayed by a soft snort near the end.

The Shield sets the bag beside the bowl, his sword-roughened hands sliding over the fabric of Ignis's sweater, threatening to travel beneath it. "You love me."

"I must," Ignis says. "But if you slip those frigid fingers of yours beneath my sweater, I am not opposed to ending your life."

Gladio quirks an eyebrow. "With your spatula?"

"Need I remind you what happens when you question my methods?" Ignis glances over the rims of his glasses as he taps the utensil against the bowl.

"Depends on how you use it." Gladio plants a kiss on his forehead, drawing back with a smirk. "Heh, you've got a little . . . " He taps the space between Ignis's eyes and the advisor goes momentarily cross-eyed as Gladio slips his glasses from his ears, wiping at an unseen offense upon his skin with one ghastly cold thumb. "You really need to learn how to blend, Iggy."

"I don't suppose you bothered to wear your gloves?" Ignis says.

"Can't feel the steering wheel with those on," Gladio says.

"And your jacket?" Ignis adds.

Gladio shrugs. "It ain't that cold."

"Ugh, Gladio. For Shiva's sake, it's snowing outside." Ignis moves to adjust his glasses before realizing they are still clasped between Gladio's fingers. "You _know_ how the cold affects you."

"Uh huh," Gladio traces a path down his jaw with a frozen finger. "I know."

Color rises to flush Ignis's cheeks despite his attempt to subvert it and Gladio chuckles low in his throat. The other man's arms tighten around him, drawing him into an embrace that is both freezing and somehow heated.

"Mmm, you're cute when you're flustered," Gladio murmurs.

Ignis slides flour-dusted hands around the other man's body, palms flat against his backside with a slap of denim. "Unhand me, you fiend."

"Hmmn," Gladio rumbles. He dips his head, the tip of his nose brushing Ignis's own. "I like it when you're bossy."

The hands squeeze. "I shall never finish this cake at this rate."

"Forget the damn cake," Gladio says. Hands grip his hips and the other man's voice dips into roughened purr. "I'd rather eat you."

Before Ignis can formulate a response, Gladio has captured his mouth in a searching, passionate kiss, those blasted cold hands slipping up the back of his sweater and splaying across the small of his back so that Ignis gasps into his mouth.

"Think that dough can sit there a minute?" Gladio murmurs against his lips between nips and short kisses. "You gotta see what it looks like out there."

"Well, I suppose." Ignis winds his arms around the other man's neck and rises to the tips of his toes for a deeper melding of mouths and Gladio nearly lifts him from the floor.

Never mind the fact that the advisor had seen his fair share of snow. While beautiful, winter is certainly not his favorite season, but he humors Gladio just the same, pausing to shrug on his coat and exchange his dress shoes for a pair of boots. Gladio actually stops to don his leather jacket and while he does not bother to zip it, Ignis does not complain.  It is, at least, a compromise.

Outside, the isolated house has become a decorative centerpiece for winter's slow-drifting display, the trees that surround the property cloaked in white, the ducks and geese that usually reside near the pond having abandoned it in favor of warmer waters. With the frigid wind sifting chilled fingers through his well-gelled hair, Ignis can understand why. But it is the warmth of Gladio's eager stare that intrigues him more than their snowbound quarters, a curious anticipatory expression. Just what in all of Eos could be so unusual about this particular evening?

"Come out back," Gladio says.

"Very well," Ignis says. "But Gladio, as much as I am enjoying nature's splendor, there are things--"

Gladio silences him with a finger to his lips. "Just come, okay."

Ignis swallows his protests and plods obligingly along beside his companion, snow crunching beneath his boots. Hints of moonlight peek from between the heavy, gray clouds, the backdrop of half-frozen water surrounded by a ring of trees an idyllic snapshot of winter's sometimes beautiful perfection.

Gladio tilts his head, eyeing Ignis with an expectant look that causes the advisor's brow to furrow.

"It's quite lovely," he says after a moment's pause.

"You sure?" Gladio nods his head towards the pier. "Why don't you take a closer look."

Ignis squints into the distance, the sparkle of moonlight upon fresh snow greeting his gaze. "I do believe you still have my glasses."

"I do?" Gladio runs a hand through his hair before fumbling through his pocket with a laugh. "Well, shit." He produces the aforementioned spectacles and hands them over with a flourish. "Sorry about that, Specs."

Ignis balances the glasses upon his nose and adjusts the frames, the slight haze of the picture drawing into sharp focus. As expected, the pristine countryside is, in fact, a breathtaking sight. The thin layer of ice that has begun to cover the pond, the snow-laden branches, the hilt of his favorite training spear protruding from the winter canopy.

Ignis blinks. _What in the blazes?_

"Huh." Gladio says. "Guess you left it out here."

"I did no such thing!" Ignis half-stalks over to where the spear's head is thrust deep into the nearest snow drift. "I would never think to leave such a weapon in these conditions, let alone---"

Metal clinks against the spear's side and Ignis pauses in his efforts to jerk it free of the ground. Something has come loose---no, something is tied to the top---swinging freely. Ignis frees his weapon from the icy ground and flips the blunt end towards himself, snatching the wayward object within his hand.

He pulls the bit of string free with a snap of his wrist and unfurls his fist. And stares. Round. Silver. A thin bejeweled band of blue streaking the surface.

"What . . . " his voice fades into nothingness as Gladio approaches.

"For a minute there, I thought you were gonna toss it into the lake." The other man plucks the ring from his now-trembling palm and holds it aloft. "So, I had this whole thing planned out for when the boys came over later, but you know what? This is your moment." He brushes the back of his hand across the blade of Ignis's cheek. " _Our_ moment."

"Gladio." Ignis's voice is a breathless whisper.

"So, how about it?" The Shield captures his hand within his own, kneels before him in the snow. "You wanna do this marriage thing with me, Iggy?"

"I --- " Ignis swallows past the lump in his throat, struggling to find a sense of proper decorum and failing. "Y-yes."

Gladio slips the band upon his finger and brushes a kiss atop his knuckles. "Thank the gods. I was startin' to sweat."

Ignis laughs, a giddy and unbridled sound as Gladio rises to his feet and gathers him into a crushing embrace, lifting him from the snow-crusted ground and stealing both his breath and his speech with a kiss.

"How I adore you, you exceptionally peculiar man," Ignis murmurs against his lips, the faintest of declarations made only for Gladio's ears.

"Damn good thing," Gladio says. "I mean, I'd have a hard time trusting that cake later, if you didn't."

"Honestly!" Ignis huffs.

Gladio sweeps him from the ground once more, hefting him into his arms. "Think the baking can wait a little longer?"

"I do believe the mixture will keep as it is," Ignis says.

"Good," Gladio rumbles. "Because I won't."

"Insatiable fiend," Ignis says.

Cold fingers slip beneath his sweater and Ignis yelps. "Bossy smartass."  The warmth of Gladio's breath caresses his ear and Ignis shivers.  "Love you, Iggy."  

"And I love you," Ignis replies.

Gladio carts him across the snow much like a hard-won prize, as if his weight is of no consequence at all and Ignis rests his head upon the other man's shoulder just for a moment before Gladio kicks the door closed behind them with one booted foot.

Yes, the cake could definitely wait.

 

~FINIS~


End file.
